Sometimes life intersects art. By which I mean, you see yourself in a song, a painting, or a play.
In some instances those intersections are liberating; finding voice and colour to things you previously knew not even how to whisper.
In other cases, art make you want to turn and run from what it reveals about yourself.
The crazy fandom hype that is spewed all over the internet about the play I'm currently working on annoys me, and I'm a bit older than the average hormone-crazed teenager posting about it on Tumblr. I don't sit for hours in my room listening to the soundtrack and enjoy wallowing in the angst it stirs. So when I read the script for the first time I was not prepared to be emotionally accosted. It speaks openly of things that I have always been hesitant to discuss or question. The words of the dialogue and songs fell over me, poking little holes in places where I have put up walls for my innermost thoughts and memories.
Seeing it come to life and managing it all in an objective position (instead of as an actress) should prove to be interesting.
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